Page 129 of Filthy Dirty Dom

“I am,” Alex said. “And you’re right. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Glad to hear you agree. But in case it’s not quite sinking in, hear this: Life is unpredictable. It's cruel, it's unyielding, and it's goddamn unfair. But we can't let that stop us. We do what we must do to get through this life, Alex, and when we find any measure of happiness, we hold onto it. Tight. Because it's fleeting. You can either enjoy every moment of it or you can let it go and live a life filled with nothing but regrets and 'what ifs'. You've found someone who loves you, who accepts you, warts and all. That's rare. Don't let her go because of your fears. Don't let her go because you're afraid of what might happen. Hold on. Love her as long as you can, as much as you can.”

59

In the dimly lit room, Leslie stood securely bound to a black, leather X-frame situated in the center of the room. Her body was naked and exposed, her skin tingling anxiously. She felt the cool air of the room raise goosebumps along her arms and legs, leaving her acutely aware of her vulnerability. A simple black silk blindfold masked her sight, plunging her into darkness and amplifying her other senses. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, and the thrill of uncertainty was doing strange things to her.

She heard the door creak open and the sound of Gareth’s footsteps entering the room. Her heart quickened. They were measured, deliberate steps, creating an almost hypnotic rhythm. The footsteps began to circle her, the sound of leather soles on the hardwood floor resonating in the quiet room.

Each step was measured and unhurried, echoing in the quiet room and bouncing off the bare walls. She heard the soft creak of leather, the rustle of fabric, the measured pace of his breathing. He was close, yet not close enough to touch.

Leslie stopped breathing when Gareth’s footsteps paused behind her. She was hyper-aware of her surroundings, every little noise, every shift in the air. The silence was punctuated only by the quiet hum of her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then, without any warning, he moved again. The footsteps resumed their leisurely pace around her. She was on edge, but she was feeling more excitement than arousal. She wasn’t wet, but hopefully that would change.

She needed this.

She needed to prove if only to herself that she could indeed survive without Alex.

Leslie remained suspended, stretched out on the X-frame, as a soft shuffling sound echoed from the direction of the cabinet in the corner, the repository of various instruments of pleasure and pain. Her heart beat rapidly. What would he choose? A paddle? A flogger? A whip?

After what felt like an eternity, Gareth’s footsteps approached her again. Something hard traced a gentle path over her body, sweeping from her ankles up her legs, trailing over her bare torso, circling her breasts and then down her arms. He’d chosen the crop. Instead of arousing her, however, the knowledge caused a cascade of memories to rain down on her. Memories of the night Alex had sailed her across a lake to purchase a flogger. Memories of how he’d used it to trace her body, then hit her, finally letting go of his fears of hurting her, of being too much for her.

When Gareth lifted the crop, the absence of contact made her shiver in the cool air. Then, without any warning, it came down on her thigh. The sharp sting of leather against her skin took her by surprise, making her cry out. It was a sharp, burning pain, but it was chased quickly by a surprising wave of pleasure, one that left her feeling guilty.

How could she feel pleasure when it wasn’t the tool that should be turning her on but the man wielding it?

But she couldn’t deny that when the tool fell again, this time in a series of hits ranging from gentle teases to sharp stings, the pleasure he was making her feel steadily climbed, leaving Leslie panting and twitching in her bindings. Her skin was on fire, the sting from the crop replaced by a warm, pulsating sensation. The once silent room was now filled with her panting breaths.

Without warning, Gareth’s hands caressed her. His touch was firm but gentle, reminding her so much of how Alex had touched her, causing tears to gather underneath her blindfold.

She whimpered as his fingertips grazed her breasts, teasing her nipples into firm peaks before his mouth descended. She was wet now. Her arousal steadily climbing. The sensation of his lips on her sensitive flesh made her gasp, her bound body straining against her restraints. He sucked and nibbled, his tongue swirling around her nipples, while one of his hands wandered lower, tracing circles on her inner thighs.

The hard bulge of his cock in his slacks pressed insistently against her leg. It was a promise of what was to come, making her squirm.

His fingers made their way to her pussy, finding her clit with a precision that made her gasp. He started slow, his touch light, fluttering against her sensitive flesh, keeping her on the brink but never pushing her over.

She moaned, begging for more, her hips bucking against his hand. But he only chuckled, his breath warm against her skin as he continued his torment. His lips returned to her nipples, sucking and biting, adding to the sweet torment of his touch.

The sensations were overwhelming, a storm of pleasure that threatened to consume her. Tied and blindfolded, she was at his mercy, her body his to play with. And play he did, pushing her higher and higher, until she was a writhing, moaning mess of desire.

As Gareth’s hands again traced paths across her sensitive skin, a wave of pleasure so strong washed over Leslie that it was only shadowed by her sudden longing for Alex. He should be the one making her feel this way, and the fact that he wasn’t, that it was Gareth doing it, felt like a betrayal, not just to Alex, but to herself too.

"I can't," she murmured, her voice just above a whisper as guilt pooled in her gut. "I can't do this." She writhed against her restraints, trying to pull away from the unwanted contact. “No more…” Her voice grew louder, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a shaky breath before she let her truth spill out, “I love Alex... I want to be with him. Only him. I don’t want this… Not with anyone else but Alex.”

Everything stopped. The man froze, his hands hovering over her trembling form. Then, he slowly stepped back. Her breaths came in short, sharp pants. She was waiting for him to speak, to say something, anything.

Finally, she felt the cool air of the room as her blindfold was gently removed. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the soft lighting. When her vision cleared, her gaze fell upon the man before her, the one who had been touching her, bringing her to the edge of desire.

It wasn't Gareth.

“Alex?” she managed to whisper, her voice filled with a mixture of shock, relief and confusion. He stood there, silently watching her. His eyes, dark and intense, spoke volumes, echoing the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

Alex stepped forward, the silence in the room ringing louder than ever. He reached out, his fingers cupping her face tenderly. She saw something in his eyes—a question, a plea, an unspoken declaration—and it made her heart clench.

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a lustful, demanding kiss, nor was it soft and timid. It was full of desperation and longing. It was a kiss that spoke volumes of unsaid words, of raw emotions, of a love that was all-consuming.

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